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The Great Trial	By : WinterDovane Category: InuYasha > Yaoi - Male/Male > InuYasha/Sessh?maru > InuYasha/Sessh?maru Views: 22203 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha and Co nor do I make any money from this fic.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
For those of you that remember this story still exists out there and didn’t give up….
Disclaimer: I do not own this, nor do I make money. Please read and review.
Chapter 16: Kin
I
In his wildest imagination, he had never conceived his rein would begin this way.
Toshiro, his great father, had long been a warlord, the leader of his pack for hundreds of years until time and violence forced him to become a general of the rogue army—a Taishou, the Inu no Taishou. With nothing but conflict and slaughter throughout the lands, occasionally making its way into the lands his sect of Inus called their own, Toshiro had little choice but to take up arms and fight against more than just a few enemies; the way of the clan was over and a new era begun: the path of conquest. The machinations of other elders among the numerous Shiro Inu and the discussion circles had lead them to push Toshiro into a broader scope for the future of their land and people. Rather than fight one after the next and the next, one leader would need to rise to maintain the peace.
For too long, the demon tribes of the West and North had run rampant with no regard to other demons or humans; law had to be established or chaos would continue to rain down upon the land. And Toshiro was brought to realize all this centuries before his son was to be born and sent out in the harsh world alone; once the demon came of age, the two could raise their army to bring order, unification, to the land. And come of age, the young Touga did. Nearly two hundred years of isolation, exile in which Toshiro’s older brother, the boy’s uncle, hunted the child into the ground in the name of The Great Trial. Finally, when the young inu appeared with a weapon of such awesome strength, one made out of his own fang and the evil soul of an enemy dragon, did the Elder Counsel decide he was ready to be returned unto his kinsmen.
Of course, as younglings do, the younger inu felt nothing but malice and betrayal at the hands of his family for abandoning him, for giving in to this barbaric custom; yet, as time wore on and he was more integrated into his clan’s daily life, the goodness in him started to come through when his clan was attacked and needed protection. The weak should not be stomped under the might of the strong, and he, as a former weakling forced to be stronger or die, would forever pit his sword against oppression. Since his sire, the one he formerly despised for leaving him, spoke of the same ideal, to fight against the violence in order to unite the West so the weak would always have protection, Touga couldn’t help but agree: the path of Conquest would lead them down the right path. He and his sire stood together in the fight for what should have been right.
However, the best of intentions, regardless of how certain his ideals, were distorted once Toshiro’s favored second mate (the one he took after Touga’s birth father, Toshiro’s Beta mate, died) betrayed him with another demon in the clan.
From there, the female left their ranks and took the leader sanity with her.
This spiral of his father’s downfall took decades and hundreds of demon lives to hit rock bottom and to shake the son out of blindness at his father’s folly. In the beginning, the General seemed mad with the desire to conquer the smaller villages and tribes around his palace; he gave his army no rest from the constant battle sweeping across the land like a wall of fire, consuming everything in its’ wake. Those that opposed the General were tortured and hung from trees to show the ultimate dishonor to their houses, and not even the women or children were safe from his wrath. He was insane for conquest.
And the returned, reinstated Touga had only been part of his father’s house for thirty years when the madness began; as the second-in-command, he watched this utter destruction for fifty years, even aided the General in his quest for ultimate justice, until he finally had enough of the sickening slaughter. The younger inu took the lives of countless, innocent women and children while under his father’s order, staining his hands so crimson that the blood could never be washed away. At night, the faces haunted his nightmares, drove the still-young inu to an abyss of emptiness even the Trial could not force upon him. For he had sacrificed his own morals and honor by following these orders, all to keep his father from exiling him once again; to his later shame, he betrayed those he intended to protect and this failure did not leave him, even to the end of his life.
The realization of what he was really doing came to pass after his nose grew numb to the scent of newly spilled blood in a village full of farmers, merchants, bakers, and families—those that depended on the ruling class to protect them from this very same fate—nothing more than the strong preying on the weak. The jarring realization came when the tang of metal didn’t make him start with the cloying sweetness, and the tall inu stayed his raised hand for an important moment that would change everything.
A cowering family staring up at him, death incarnate with the sword Sou’nga clenched so hard in one massive fist that his knuckles strained, and something in the young but battle-hardened inu simply snapped. Nausea rolled through him in a wave as the mother put herself in front of her children and stared him down like the bravest, most honorable samurai; while she asked him for mercy for her children, offered her life in exchange for theirs, his knees trembled just once and the random thought flittered through the haze of blood: what have I become, to kill this woman and her pup...
His heart slammed against his ribs, a meaty thump that softened his resolve. The path of the honorable ruler…
“What are you waiting for?”
Toshiro’s musty scent swarmed, drenched in old viscera.
“What it is that you are waiting for, my son?”
Fist tightens on Sou’nga and that damned sword whispered the same sweet words as his sire, the same lust for power and blood and the sweet feeling of control when the life or death was in the palm of his hand…it would be nothing to keep going on, to move through more until none in the land would stand to oppose them. They would ultimately succeed in the goal of uniting the West under one rule, of ending the chaos and gaining control over the lawless demons and humans that posed a threat to the whole land. All would cower at the might of the Inu Clan, for no one could beat them as long as the two and their army could stand.
But there is might and then there is right. Haven’t I learned this all before…?
“Touga!”
Someone is breathing hard, too hard, and it is him. The muscles in his back tightened under all that armor and he-on his own- straightens. “…I will not.”
Toshiro draws back, “What- what say you?”
And here, the traces of an honorable ruler that would make this young Inu the later Inu no Taishou of legend, makes it first appearance as he turns to face down the monarch that he had blindly followed with faith bordering on obsession. The younger inu, one that has cut his teeth in the wilds, fighting for his life, pulled himself up to stand tall and give the full benefit of his eye to the other that sired him.
“I say I will no longer stare down into the faces of innocent people and raise my blade.” The inu’s eyes turned red and his youkai swirled, “I say I have brought shame upon myself and my title. I SAY I will no longer slaughter women and children!” He bared his teeth, upper lip curling in a snarl.
Toshiro, taken aback for only a moment, snarled back at his offspring, “you dare defy me? You dare when here I attempt to build your future kingdom! All of this has been for you, boy, and yet you stand against me. Traitor!”
“I am not traitor to you, dishonorable sire! It is you who have betrayed the people of this land, you who has shamed me in carrying out your perverted will and I, too, am unclean.” A flash as Sou’ng glinted with malice, “I will regain my honor.”
Enraged, Toshiro threw his head back to roar of rage; the true fight ensured when he also lifted his sword.
Young though he might have been, Touga had a lifetime of survival on his side. He knew little else than fighting and stood toe to toe, met blow for blow, and found his true potential in the earth-shattering battle against his own father. The elder inu charged him immediately following his disobedience, and unfortunately didn’t expect the younger to stand his ground against a full front attack; yet, Touga would not be moved, would not waiver from his conviction. His powerful blade tasted Toshiro’s blood; Toshiro’s blade drew Touga’s. The dance went on and on.
Around them, the weary soldiers darted out of the path of destruction, closely watching the action but not interfering—for these demons owed both inus their loyalty. Regardless of whom the victor proved to be, these demons respected power, and the winner would indeed be formidable enough to follow.
Of course, Toshiro was older, more seasoned, and a merciless fighter when the situation called for him to be so; Touga, however, was fighting for something more precious—to regain his honor and the right the terrible wrongs that had already been done by his own hand.
Long into the next day and even into the next night, the two when round and round from one end of the island to the other, passing by other villages, other territories, other demon colonies without pause. Father versus son, ruler versus follower, wrong versus right. The two combatants bled for their own agendas and ideals, yet through the whirlwind of crashing blades and powerful attacks, not word was spoken. The son no longer had interest pleading to his father’s principles, and the father had no desire to convince his traitorous son to rejoin him.
Finally, as the sun graced the horizon to give way to night, the new moon following the day’s descent, did the older dog finally give way to his numerous wounds, strain, and blood-loss. He thrust his sword in a finally attempt at a true killing blow, certain his offspring would not be able to dodge a lightening-quick move right to his mid-section; while a part of his inner self wept at the side of his mind at killing his child, the warrior roared in triumph at victory over a worth opponent. Yet, the younger dog, sensing his demise, powered by the lack of a moon, and the heat in his blood, moved just enough that the sword slid over his armor without penetration and the sword in hand came down with the full power of muscle behind it. The older dog’s armor gave way under the strength of that blow, a moment frozen when the blade penetrated his body cavity, ran though ripe viscera to spill blood up his throat and out of the gaping holes in his body.
For the old warlord, the look in his son’s eyes when the killing strike was delivered sealed his long-held belief that Taishou would be the kind of ruler he himself could never be. The previous betrayal forgotten as agony of the blow was replaced by blessed numbness of on-coming death, Toshiro had the ability to smile.
Realization of this made the young Taishou pause amidst the pump of adrenaline and victory to realize he in effect just delivered the killing blow to a tyrant...that was also his sire.
His golden eyes widen with the recognition of what he has done, “Father...”
Cough, “and y-you, my son....The hon-orable ruler...”
Death swooped from the heavens to pull his soul from the shell of his body while Touga’s heart hammered against his breast plate and tears threatened to eat his vision.... For the weak, he had stood against the strong, and that would be his stance for the rest of his days. The new warlord threw back his head and howled in triumph and grief.
II
The palace uproar has died to a din since the Lords of the West have returned with less flourish and finesse than the royalty is accustomed to experiencing. Some are even a bit miffed at being ignored the moment the two returned, but the mass still falls in to meander back inside the palace where preparations for the evening meal would be underway. The family would be honored to a traditional dinner without advisors, politicians, messengers, and representatives cluttering up the table with business from all corners of the West. The tradition, one begun by Toshiro, the father of Touga, was one the family more or less assumed Sesshomaru would honor since his noble sire also called the family alone to his table on his eve returned from battle (even though Sesshomaru had never before called a gathering such as this and remained alone in the palace). Many were already planning what styles they would wear to the all-important meal.
While the rest of the mass follows, Sesshomaru and InuYasha take the center staircase with Xin following; ahead of them, Kenshin waits on the third landing. The brothers move in amiable silence, just their patter of boots and bare feet echoing between them since the others are far behind and the two advisors wait for their lords to start questioning the state of the lands before breaking the quiet. Yet, more importantly, the two take in this long-awaited sight, the sons of Touga walking side-by-side in their family home, returning victorious, united. It is a vision the late lord would have given anything to witness.
Right by the painting of Touga and Izayoi, Kenshin’s ears twitch as he bows low to the returned lords, decked out in full plated armor instead of his usual casual clothing; when the fox moves to the side, a sashimono flares at his back, the Western banner indicating his allegiance. Sesshomaru appreciates the advisor’s forethought. Beside him are two handmaids and two servant boys that bow right along with him and wait for the lords to continue up the staircase before following behind to serve the lords before the evening meal.
Itching with curiosity, the hanyou keeps his peace even though he is wondering how many shiro inus are gathered here and why so many just showed up. Keh, he doesn’t remember seeing many of them with armor and swords trying to cut up some of those right bastards before they hit the shore. As a matter of fact, the “brother” from downstairs isn’t one that came with the army, InuYasha is sure. So, what? They all just showed up after all the fighting is done? Not that he knows the whole story, but it seems cowardly to let it all ride on Sesshomaru’s shoulders like that (not that the bastard needs a hand with a couple of thousands or anything). Yet, the hanyou’s thoughts are bouncing with possibilities and questions. Sure, he was blown away seeing the mass of white-haired, golden-eyed demons crowding around the fancy carpet, ‘specially since he’d never seen another inu but Sesshomaru in all his time wandering the land, not to mention a whole fucking clan just laying around somewhere. His immediate reaction was to be ticked off as hell and ignore the lot of ‘em (probably too good to have a hanyou in their bloodline anyhow) since they couldn’t be bothered to come and fight against invaders and stuff, but he had a thought it might just be the whole trial bullshit that kept them away (maybe).
Of course he didn’t want to seem like an idiot with Xin and Kenshin following behind them, so he kept the questions for Sesshomaru to himself, hoping they’d have some time before the evening meal so he didn’t seem like a complete dumbass for not knowing some kind of traditions of the inu and embarrass the shit outta himself. But yeah, until he knew the whole story, he didn’t want to see any of them following until he had some time to himself.
Sesshomaru, on the other hand, seems lost in thought, distant, as they come to the guards of the palace’s family wing and a myrid of inu scents mix with his and InuYasha’s. Eyes narrowing in displeasure (since the majority merely invaded without a by-your-leave, hn, an annoyance to tolerate), he keeps his face schooled as they move down the massive hall to his own quarters and the one already prepared for InuYasha at his express order. He had many items removed from storage, cleaned, restored, and readied for his little brother’s use.
After Lady Izayoi had left the palace with her infant son, the demon lord had been inconsolable and angry at any nuisance. The pain he experienced passing her empty quarters had been too great, and he ordered everything stripped from the room and put away until he could distance himself enough to bare the scent of her, Father, and InuYasha on each piece of furniture. Now that the Trial was finally through and they could face some semblance of peace, the Western Lord found it fitting to restore the items used by their father and the lady for InuYasha’s personal quarters. The ornately carved furniture, a new futon, and even some relics from their father’s youth might go far in giving the hanyou a piece of their sire as well as an idea as to how much the General cherished Lady Izayoi. These items could not replace the two but may aid in easing some of the old hurts…not that any of it had for him.
And here, the lord stops outside the room that was her quarters and living space. His mind blurs for a few precious moments, wandering back to a simpler time when he stood outside this door, shoulder to shoulder with the Taishou, and waited for her to bid them entry.
“Ah! My mate and first son have finished for the day. Izumi, please, prepare food for my honored men and bring it with haste so they may find respite for the night.” She could always sense them near.
And on this cue, his great father opened the door to her smiling face and her sitting room warm, welcoming. Her face lights up with a bright smile only for them while her hand rubs the protruding belly below her kimono….
“Oi.”
Blink and another pair of golden eyes are staring directly into his own, not from a greater height like the Taishou, but from right below his chin.
“Sesshomaru?” Whatever the hanyou sees in his brother’s face is enough to make the fearless inu hesitate.
The elder inu simply looks up at the edge of the doorframe to gain space from the ghosts, “this is to be your quarters, InuYasha, the one and the same that belonged to the Lady Izayoi while she stayed in the Western Palace. “
The younger also turns to the door, more solemn and thoughtful than before. “Mother…”
“Hn. I…had imagined this may give you some piece of the past you have been denied. The furnishings from her rooms have been cleaned and restored for your use. Even some of Father’s items, clothing and such, have been prepared for you.”
Ah, there the ears perk. InuYasha clears his throat, “keh…That’s—that’s really great. Thanks. I’ll take care of their stuff.”
A small, imperceptible smile lights the demon lord’s mouth. “Hn. It is now yours to do with as you please, little brother.”
The two share a similar look that belays the necessity for words but still maintains a simple but effective bond through their shared loss and hopeful future.
“I will give you time to prepare for the evening meal.” He gestures to one of the maids and a younger servant boy. “These two will see to your needs and prepare your bathing room. I will return when it is time to dine.”
“That works for me. You know how me and food get along.” The hanyou waves his brother away, “I’ll see ya then.”
The demon lord gives a nod to the maid as he turns away, and the two bow low in respect as he sweeps down the hall with his graceful strides; the other two maids follow him, leaving a very thoughtful hanyou to turn back to the massive door before him.
And here, he hesitates and lifts one clawed hand to lie right over the intricate carving of an inu with its’ head thrown back in mid-howl. Never one to be tentative, the younger demon gathers his resolve, for fuck’s sake, it’s just a room—nothing special! Four walls and a futon so I don’t have to sleep outside in a tree. That’s it, just four walls, ceiling, and floor. No big deal.
“Sire?” The young maid, one that (like the rest of the castle attendants) had been utterly dying to see the lord’s infamous younger brother, is gentle and somewhat afraid of raising his ire by overstepping herself. But, the dog-eared inu seems to have forgotten her and Hichiro’s presence entirely and starts at the sound of her voice. When he turns to blink at her, she gets a glimpse of his handsome yet sheepish grin.
“Uh-yeah. So, I gotta get ready for dinner, I guess.” Meaning, he expects them to bow out and leave him to it, but the maid gives a happy nod.
“Of course, sire! Please allow us to attend to you,” she bows low and Hichiro scrambles to follow suit.
An ear cocks up, what the hell does that mean? Whoa, wait a second…is that some kind of come on? His face immediately heats with a blush.
“Hirchiro can start your lordship’s bath, and if I may, sire, I will set out the clothing you choose for your dress tonight.” She straightens with a kind smile and catches the Prince’s expression. Not one she would have expected from an inu so much younger than she—the look in his eyes is skeptical, so very…old. In the moment of time, the maid feels just a little bit sorry for the young lord.
But, he shrugs off the expression in an instant, “sure, that sound all right to me. I mean, thanks, you know? I’ll take all the help I can get.”
A giggle escapes before she can bite it back.
“ ’Sides, I’ve never had to wear that formal crap anyhow. Probably a real pain in the ass, ain’t it?”
This time, her laughter tinkles down the hallway, “oh! My lord is so very entertaining! I’m certain we can get you presentable for the royal family, sire. I have no doubt in my skills.” She glances down at the boy, “I think we’ve got this one, ne Hichiro-chan?”
The boy’s tail wags and he throws himself forward in a bow toward InuYasha, “hai, sire! Miniko-san has the best style of anyone at the Palace. That’s why Lord Sesshomaru chose her to be your attendant.” He straightens with a shit-eating grin, “no worries at all, my lord!” The two attendants exchange a nod of confirmation; they would make sure everyone would be shocked at how handsome their lord would be entering the dining room!
The hanyou simply blinks at the two, grinning at one another with determination. This simple acceptance, this unquestionable loyalty to him, a guy they’d never even seen before, strikes the hanyou with a pang of nostalgia for his old pack. These two weren’t cowed into serving him and didn’t seem put-out about him being nothin more than a half-breed. They seemed pretty real, to respect him as part of the royal family (even though this ‘sire’ shit was already getting right the fuck on his nerves). They almost make him want to stay.
Mentally, the inu gives himself a shake. He’s not going to make any long-term plans just yet.
While he is just staring at the daunting door, Miniko is busy with instructions to send the young Hichiro to get firewood to heat the lord’s bath; when she turns back, the lord has not moved at all. He still stands in the same spot with hands hidden in his sleeves, back stiff, and staring at the door like he could see beyond the thick wood. Misinterpreting his inner turmoil, Miniko blanches when she realizes the lord must be waiting for her to open the door for him! Of course, the lord would expect her to jump to and she scoots quickly over to bow low before palming the door and swinging it open wide.
“As you please, sire.”
The smell, not the initial look, is what hits the young hanyou first and foremost, bringing him to a whole world of nostalgia he reserves only for times he wants to feel safe and loved. The feeling wells deep within his being, beneath all the bluster and bad-ass, below the fighting skills and survival instincts honed in the wilds…
“Mother…”
A tremble shakes him from head to foot. “Oi.”
The voice is quiet and Miniko looks up from her bow, “sire?”
Slight pause in which she glimpses at the young lord’s face and straightens automatically; Miniko, young for a demon but still a little over three hundred, catches her breath not at his expression but as his eyes. The stormy gold resonates with misery in the candle light, at odds with his neutral expression. He is a youth filled with such strong emotions, with such pain and despair that she must fight against her nature. The nurturer in her wants to convey comfort in any way she can. “My lord…”
“No offense, but could ya give me a few minutes? Alone, I mean. Then, I’ll lookit the clothes and stuff.”
Miniko draws her hand back reluctantly, her heart aching for that soft tone. “Of course, InuYasha-sama. Please, allow me to get you something small to eat, perhaps? Then I will return and aid you in your dress.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.” All still with that soft tone, but she cannot overstep herself further and bows again before leaving the sad young inu to take his first steps into that room and face whatever haunts him.
InuYasha, however, barely realizes he’s spoken to the maid and doesn’t even turn when she leaves. Instead, the images behind his eyes are blurry with age and painted with the color of memory. The door opened and floods him with the smell of his mother, so strong and real that he could almost imagine her sitting inside this room in a chair by a window so she could look out while doing needlepoint or pouring tea; this smell is more than just some ghost of a scent from old clothes or a once-owned hair pin. Even through the smell of cleaning cloths and many maids that prepared the room, Lady Izaoi’s perfume and natural herbal smell overpower all others. Just like at his Aunt’s home all those years ago, Mother’s scent overpowered the jealousy and spite of the others in that household to make him feel safe. The times when she took him out to the woods with a packed bento, taught him herbs and roots, or just sat under a tree with him on her lap to tell stories, all the blurry memories rise with the clarity to strike him with the power of a fist in his gut.
Sure, he always kept the memory of his mother’s tears at the forefront of his mind—always a reminder that not everyone would hate him because of his mixed blood, that there were some out there that could love him as much as she—but these memories were ones he hoarded like gold, kept away from any poison-spewing bastard or bloody brawls he’d suffered in his long life since she died. The ones that made him warm and loved, the ones that reminded him how powerful she had been to shelter him, the ones that made him believe she and his father had created him because they truly loved one another. How else could she stand to be that close to him otherwise?
“Tell me more about him, Mother. Tell me the stories again.”
Perched under a towering elm, once reminiscent of Goshinboku, the tiny inu looked up at the gentle face, warming at her small smile. He sat on her lap, layers of her kimono underneath his bum cushioning him for his favorite time with her, when she would tell him stories after they finished the snacks she had made that morning.
Belly full, he contentedly snuggles deeper into his mother’s embrace.
“Oh, more stories, ne?” Her singsong tone floated over him, a balm to his Aunt’s screeching voice. “You’ve heard them all so many times, my son.”
“Hai, but please, Ka-san. Please?”
She laughed softly and gently stroked his ears, “hai, hai. I cannot deny my sweet little boy. Perhaps I will tell a story you haven’t heard often then.”
“Yea! A story,” and here he snuggled deeper and prepared to listen.
“Ah, this story begins long ago, when the West was still terribly overrun with demons and humans that meant to do harm to others. Such a long time ago for ones such as I, but only a blink to ones like you, Ya-chan. It was a time of unrest and your father was still young as far as demons are concerned, but he was still strong and brave with all the qualities of a leader. However, there was much bloody war in this time and many attempted to kill your father rather than be united under his rule. However, one of his foes was more dangerous than the rest, one that lives to this day still…”
While the story she told plays in the background, the hanyou’s feet automatically take him through the doorway and into the room. Not that he had personally seen the inside of many mansions (not even once that damn Monk joined their ranks), but he’s almost certain this is more impressive than most, certainly more than just four walls, a ceiling, and a futon.
The space for this sitting room is huge, large enough for him to spar with four or five people at least, and the futon he can see in the next room is big enough for three, maybe four demons twice his size. He moves like a ghost, silently through the next doorway to look at the main sleeping room.
A wooden wardrobe takes up a third of one wall and is painted finely with scenes of a forest and animals through the seasons, all four doors are closed to show the full scene in action. Wolves frolic around trees, birds perch in the strong branches, rabbits cozy in dens, and more ornate details he can pick out. However, the source of the smell wafting through the room emanates from the covered chest at the foot of the futon, something he wanted more time and privacy to explore. Always another day.
He stands before the closed chest and takes another deep breath, allowing himself another moment to imagine his mother’s hands stroking his ears in the absent way she used to, then his eyes open, and he finishes glancing around. By the window, pillows and small stands make a perfect place for tea that he had seen in his imagination; the place where his mother and father might have sat before retiring for the night. And the old man would have stayed here with her, at least some of the time, or why else would there be three sword mounts on the wall right above the futon?
Walking around now, the hanyou runs tentative fingers over the glossy sheen of the wardrobe without opening it. The scent is fainter than his mothers, more musky and male, one that has the undertones of old steel and the fine hint of blood. Father… This wardrobe has provided a more grounded scent to put to the picture and as an inu, this is much more important than any material things that might be behind these wardrobe doors. This scent, more real than the ghostly vestiges left on the hilt of Tetsuaiga, twines around his senses like demon vines, crawling into his brain with more of a picture than he could have gotten from Sesshomaru’s stories or kicking the ever-loving shit out of the old man’s enemies.
Quickly, the hanyou backs away with that scent still in his nose, turns abruptly and walks out of the bedroom, closing that door behind him. Heart pounding, InuYasha blinks quickly to turn away the softness of his emotions and moves to stand by one of the windows in this sitting room instead, looking down into the courtyard of the palace.
Other furnishings escape his notice when the sound of footsteps and the swish of fine silk make one ear twitch behind him.
The smile that curves his features is anything but friendly, “Keh. Bet seein’ me here reeeeally pisses you off, huh?”
“On the contrary,” Lady Arikura stays outside the doorframe respectfully, “this is and has always been your home, young hanyou.”
InuYasha doesn’t turn around but looks at her over his shoulder; whatever is painted all over his face makes the lady laugh, a mirthless sound.
“Now, young inu. There’s no need for that face. You have been returned to your rightful position and the universe has brought about what should be.”
“Never thought you were in to divination, Ba-ba. Besides, I’m only hanging around long enough to make sure there ain’t no other wandering assholes that need Wind Scarred to Hell. Then, I’m going back-“ going back where?
The lady’s golden eyes narrow in scrutiny, and she seems to read his mind, “going back where, young hanyou? To the human village you have not visited in more than a year? Back to wandering the lands and laying your head on any rock or in any tree you are able to find? Surely the palace is a more suitable choice for home and hearth?”
“It ain’t home t’ me. This is Sesshomaru’s place, not mine,” he turns now to bare his teeth in an angry grin.
She lowers herself to chuff at him, “this is where your Mother lived with your sire in happiness. Had the human not kidnapped her, you would have been born here and spent some of your formative years; had you not gone through The Trial, you would have grown into a maturity here, learned to rule at your Father’s knee with Sesshomaru at your side. Even though you have not known it until now, the Western Palace has always had a place for you.”
“Coulda, woulda, shoulda. Like I already said, I ain’t all that interested in titles and shit. ‘Sides, Sesshomaru has say in who stays n who goes. His place, not mine.”
“Believe it or not, this Lady does know her son and can guess at his intentions. He has offered you a place here or this room would remain closed off, locked away for the times when he and he only can come to reminisce about the past. Has my royal son not even offered you this room for your own?”
“…it’s only for the short-term.” Not that he owes her any explanation.
“Hn. Pity.” The lady brings one manicured hand up to place a finger on her lower lip, “and here I was hoping for some decent opposition. It is the only reason I agreed to accompany my eldest offspring, Katsuo. I was hoping you may spar with this Lady once again and perhaps we could both hone our skill. Well, if you have no intention of staying, then I will have no one worth beating in the palace.”
Ah, his eyes sharpen with a predatory gleam. “Didn’t we already do something like that? Y’know, when I got through that, whatever n the hell move you tried to pull, and had this steel at yer head?”
Her smile is somewhat smug since the Lady knows she has the younger inu right where she wants him. “It would not have been prudent for this Lady to kill one that her son spent so longer awaiting to return. However, young hanyou, it has been quite some time since there was strain in battle for this inu. It would be…interesting… to see the extents of which you would be capable should you have some actual training. That would take some time, of course, but there is little doubt you could learn such techniques with some practice.”
InuYasha huffs, his spine straightening, “oi! Y’ gotta be fucking kidding me with this shit. I’ve added a shit-ton of new attacks to Tetsuaiga ‘cause I learn fast and I’m good at adapting when I need to.”
“Ah, but therein lies your weakness: when you need to. How quickly would you learn if your life or the lives of those around you were not in danger? How long would it take for you to learn the ways of the sword training just as you are?”
“Well, I—“ well, shit. “I dunno. Never really had time for that crap, you know with trying to survive and all.”
“Then perhaps you should attempt to find out. Simply so you know your own extents and certainly you would wish to know what effects your maturation has had on your demonic powers, not just knowing you have grown a few inches. Logically, it would be better for you to find out here in a stable environment rather than when you are in the middle of a battle.”
He doesn’t have a good comeback for this observation, ‘cause, dammit, the old bitch has a point. He’s had some time in the last few days but not nearly enough to make him an expert in the new youkai generated by his body. But, fuck, then again, when did he ever have safety before?
Waving a hand at the old lady, InuYasha glances away from her. “Whatever. Look, Ba-ba, like I said, I’ll stay while Sesshomaru makes sure we don’t gotta go hunt down more of these Mongolians. I didn’t say I was leaving right now.”
“Then you would have no objections meeting tomorrow to begin your training. Very well, this Lady will make sure the training room is prepared and shall be available after the morning meal.” Regally, Lady Arikura sees the maid hot-footing it down the hall with a covered dish. “It seems your servant is returning to dress you for the meal. Until then, brother of my youngest pup.”
“W-what? Wait a minute--!” He blinks at the empty doorway, but the old bitch has already moved on. “I never said I wanted to learn from you, Ba-ba!”
Silence is the reply, broken as Miniko comes baring a snack before dinner.
III
Matsu, high upon the palace’s battlements, is giving orders while walking over the side facing the sea. The young panther demon furiously scribbling while walking is nodding even though the human isn’t even looking at him,
“—make certain we have an extra detail on the ground closest to the woods on the eastern sides and watching for ships on the cliffs. If these Mongolian bastards are anywhere near us, I want every man and demon ready to stand.”
The panther’s mouth moves while he writes, ready to stand. Finally the general stops and looks over his shoulder, “do you have all that, Kurohyou?”
Saluting his general, the panther rises to full height, “Ryokai!”
“Good. Get our men stationed before our lords begin the evening meal.”
“Hai, General!” and away the panther strides, already planning his several stops to alert lieutenants of the changes in guard.
Matsu, on the other hand, comes to the battlement wall and looks out over the sea with his human eyes and tries to pick out anything on the horizon that could spell an attack waiting for them. As head of the ground troops and a seasoned veteran (for a human) in the art of war, Matsu has learned long ago to trust his instincts rather than his limited senses when it came to beings with powers beyond his comprehension.
Long ago, he had been just a simple troop in the Southern lord’s human army and later a mercenary, a samurai for hire that cared about coin rather than honor; when the humans occasionally clashed with demons, be it roving gangs or troops from neighboring lands, he had learned to be efficient and ruthless in killing as many as quickly as possible, even young ones. Demon children would later grow up to be faster, stronger, and more powerful than he.
Back then, he had had little conscience and even less honor.
When the human group he’d travelled with got into a tussle with another group of demons known as the Band of Seven and were virtually obliterated, Matsu had been on the brink of death, lying on the battlefield, covered in his blood while the life slowly leaked out of him.
From the surrounding woods, the tall, lithe figure of Lord Sesshomaru, accompanied by a small child, came upon the massacre. At the time, he was dying and knew nothing but of the darkening sky above him turning into a storm, frantic thoughts of his death churning in his addled state, going through the mess that was his life and wondering where it all went so wrong, where he made the wrong choices. At one time, he had been a man of fairness and ideals. At one time, his family would have been proud to claim him as one of their own. But somewhere, somewhere, so many things had changed and when the pale haired Inu lord had come to loom over him, Matsu it seemed like a vengeful spirit had come to drag him to hell for his crimes. With fear, he watched the tall figure in white move through the numerous bodies, the expression on his face bland, not even touched by all the gore...
Finally, the horrible figure looked over him, and the Matsu of that moment clutched his knife, considering shoving it into his own gut to try escaping whatever was in store for him.
“Hn. Humans are so easily broken.” The golden eyes stared down at him without pity or anger, without bloodlust or death, “is this your choice, human? What is it that you have to protect?”
Those words resonated a chord in the dying man, “...no one...has ever....given me something worthy.....to protect.”
Then, something out of a story of a man selling his soul to a demon, the figure’s eyes narrow, “and what would you do, human, with something worthy?”
Blood spills out of Matsu’s mouth, bubbling in the back of his throat, “I would die...to save it...from others like...me.”
Apparently, that answer satisfied the demon lord.
A high pitched whistle broke the bird song while the human child comes behind the tall figure’s leg, her eyes wide with the reality of death in the man in front of them. “Ano...Sesshomaru-sama...is he going to die?” She whispered, like she didn’t want to offend him.
“Hai, he will die.” The spirit confirmed without a twitch of emotion.
And there, Matsu felt it creeping closer. It was harder to breath, harder to blink. “I don’t want...to die...until my honor...” but then there was nothing.
The human alive and well in the here and now recalls waking up on the back of the lord’s two headed dragon, young Rin smiling back at him. “Sesshomaru-sama saved you! Isn’t that nice?”
From that day on, he pledged allegiance to the House of Taishou and would give his life for the demon lord’s commands. Every step he has taken since then has been to repay the demon’s choice, to make himself worthy, and tonight is no different. With the massive family gathering, it would be ample time for an attack—why not when diplomats and the like would be here to take out in one go?
Perhaps he was just getting paranoid in his old age, but the body did not lie.
IV
“Where is that little squirt?”
Even though he is busy as hell, Kenshin raps on the door to the young kit’s room and taps a stead staccato on the floor. Their first day returned to the Western Palace, he had conferred with their battlefield healer about a specific fox kit that had a shoulder and two ribs re-broken for healing, and from there, he hadn’t seen the little guy except for meal times. Of course, the kit looked to be a sturdy sort, already hitting another growth spurt possibly, but the young’s pointed absence during the welcome home ceremony hadn’t been missed. Well, kits being how kits were, it was best he check there was no mischief afoot before he had to report to his Lord with the goings on in his absence from the palace.
A moment’s pause and the healer pushes the guest room’s door open wide, his eyes sweep over the room with a quick glance and his nose picks up a stale, old smell, nothing current. Of course his sense of smell is certainly not in the same league as an inu, but coupled with his instincts from countless “oh shit” situations, his combined senses rarely steered him wrong. At the moment, he is very pissed off to find the kit is not here.
“For fuck’s sake, where are the god-dammed servants assigned to him?” the healer wheels around to the guards stationed halfway down this wing. One of them must have seen the young leave his room or have an idea where he may be. If not, then the young lord would be furious his kit has gone missing not to mention how angry Lord Kouga would be if his charge had left the castle without an escort. Powerful little shit for as young as he was but the kit was just that, not an adult that could take on some of the demons out in the wild. While he strode down the hall, Kenshin was already planning on who he would gather to send outside the castle to track the young one down if he couldn’t be traced in the palace.
Two tanuki on either end of the hall look worse-for-wear, probably recently returned from the main battle but stand to attention the second he comes around the corner.
“Healer Shin!” The two are creepily always in some form of unison.
“Hey Hiku, Haku, I’m looking for the young kit that came with the Prince of the North. He is not in his chambers and Lord InuYasha will certainly want to see him soon.”
The two give a long, slow blink, “not in his chambers? Healer-,”
“- we haven’t seen anyone pass-“
“-since we came on duty-”
“-this evening.”
“Maro and Niranmaru from last watch-“
“-told us the kit came back-“
“-after the noonday meal-“
“-and hadn’t left his chambers-“
“-since then.”
“Not even-“
“-Prince Kouga of the-“
“North has come to-“
“-see him.”
“We…”
“We feel kinda bad-“
“-for the little runt, Healer.”
Feeling his neck getting sore from bouncing between the twins, who finish each other’s sentences at the most inopportune times, Kenshin raises a hand. “He may be a young, you two, but he is a kitsune, and one that had been at the academy for some time before coming to the palace. Did either of you check to make sure he hasn’t employed any tricks?”
The two give him a blank look before shoulders tense at the very valid point.
“Son-“
“-of a-“
“-poxy-“
“-bitch.”
V
There is an intruder, and a red rage boils up from deep when the scent leads him right to the very room he’d closed off a little more than two hundred years ago. The utter agony of loss made the memories too sharp to bare—more painful than the bite of steel or burn of flame—and the room had to be closed to preserve the last vestiges of scent and the ghost of his father.
Sesshomaru stands outside his dojo, his dojo, the one Father had commissioned for him as an attempt to sway him from leaving. The door is ajar slightly, not noticeable unless one knew the room was supposed to have been left undisturbed, and the scent emanating from it is the strong musk of elder dog demon.
Who would dare....
The swish of movement, soft breath with effort, the salt of sweat.
That little fox bastard.
“Die, Naraku.”
Just a whisper, barely sound for his incredibly sensitive hearing and the demon lord would sigh if he could lower himself enough to do so. Steeling himself for the onslaught of memory, the demon lord reaches out to slide open the door.
The disturbance in the very air around him is enough to know something isn’t right. Turning on the intruder behind him, weapon posed in threat and his youkai radiating from every pore, danger is triggered by the feel of a predator just suddenly behind him. The moment caused less than a breath of panic in the fox before initiating the deeply embedded instinct to survive; his time with the other foxes in the safety of the academy did little to cull the automatic responses that carried over from the days of Naraku. Maybe, it was the reason why he had such trouble making friends his own age there. The majority of the others had come from loving homes, sequestered in safety by their parents to make sure the cruelty of the world didn’t touch their precious offspring. Very few kitsunes his age understood what it meant to be alone in the world, in real danger, to be terrified for their lives, to feel the agony of an empty belly when there was no one to hunt for them. They just didn’t understand the reality of life that Shippo did, even after InuYasha took him in. There were still times when he had no one but himself for comfort, for strength, and that instinct was too far buried in his psyche to fade, even in the Palace of the West. He had learned a very important lesson early on: survival meant never letting your guard down.
In the here and now, these instincts spin the wooden training sword in his hand for an upward strike even before he is aware of his body moving in that direction; Shippo brings the practice sword around in a smooth, seamless arch to land in a crouch at whoever found him. The sight at the shoji very nearly makes him shit his pants and the practice sword tumble from his numb fingers.
“S-Sesshomaru-sama!”
Fuck. Busted, possibly dungeon-bound. Trying to earn some brownie points (or so Kagome used to say), the kit drops to his knees to bow low before the cold Western Lord, playing into the dog demon by keeping his eyes diverted. His heart immediately speeds up, muscles tensing for whatever reaction might come his way. Regardless of InuYasha’s new position in the West, the fox is no fool. The cold demon lord would have no lost love for a stray in his castle and probably even less so now that he found Shippo in his private wing. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. This could be really bad.
“What is the meaning of this, kit?” The cold voice flows like water over rocks, smooth and unruffled.
At a loss for a few crucial seconds, Shippo catches a breath, “Sesshomaru-sama… I was using this dojo for training.”
“You are trespassing.”
“Ha…yes, yes, I am, sire.” Of course, he could have claimed ignorance of the family wing’s rooms, but how else would he have entered if not sneaking by guards? Sesshomaru was no fool and would sniff out his lie immediately. “This room is out of the way, sire.” Half-truths didn’t stink of deception.
“Hn. Many rooms in the guest wing are “out of the way,” to suit your purpose kit. Answer this Sesshomaru’s question adequately.”
Shit. Still bowing, Shippo swallows hard and has the abrupt vision of green acid whips dancing in front of his eyes while his quick mind works furiously. Is there any reason he could say to save him from whatever extreme punishment the demon lord surely has in mind? “I-I apologize, sire. I am deeply sorry to have come here and invaded the family wing of your palace.”
Golden eyes narrow, “then why have you? Do not lie to this lord, fox.”
Deciding to go with honesty, a small sigh escapes him and a different light comes into the kit’s eyes where Sesshomaru cannot see. “The scent in here, sire…that’s why I come to this room.”
Ah. The lord’s cold gaze changes an iota, lightens the hard gold. He understands the justification, how lingering power can make one feel safe in an unstable environment. Like the kit, Sesshomaru knows what it’s like to be alone and powerless and even though he does not know the kit closely, he knows the youth’s history.
“And you are aware the only scent remaining here is that of this Sesshomaru and his late sire.”
Shippo finally straightens slowly, avoiding the demon lord’s gaze so the inu doesn’t take it as a challenge to his dominance. “Yes, Sesshomaru-sama.” He sucks in a breath, “I swear, sire, I didn’t mean any harm. I wouldn’t have damaged anything!”
“Hn.” The lord acknowledges, “pick up the sword, fox.”
Uh, come again? Something in the lord’s tone stopped any stupid questions or denials that may have flittered across his mind; instead, he obeys and gingerly picks up the wooden sword from the floor without looking away from Sesshomaru’s feet. If the feet suddenly disappear, the fox knows he’ll be in deep shit.
“This Sesshomaru can understand you,” the feet move fluidly, silently across the dojo floor, nearly floating, and come to rest by the weapons rack where a similar wooden sword, longer, heavier, more worn at the hilt, more beaten from use than the one Shippo is currently holding, is chosen. One that had been made from the donated branch of the demon tree, Bokusenō, due its durability, it had once been well used. Without looking back at the kit, the demon lord tests the weight and balance of the pseudo-weapon, fingers curling around the very familiar hilt. Gods, had it really been so long….
“There are moments when the universe brings about plague and disruption, pain and death when there seems to be no reason for thus,” the demon lord’s voice was less cold, less emotionless than Shippo had ever heard before; the tone shakes him a bit. “When we do not understand what forces cause misfortunes to be heaped upon the masses equally. At these moments, destiny takes a hand in assisting the weakest to become strong, to teach that helplessness is simply an ill-equipped state of being. Hardships teach the necessity of preparing for the worst before the worst becomes reality. It is then that we achieve great strength, great power, from these lessoned learned and used.”
Something strikes the kit, right in the heart. His breath catches, “T-Then I should have been ready for my parents to die and it wouldn’t have hurt so much?”
That hoarse, trembling tone draws the demon lord to turn and face the youth down; he sees a wealth in the kit’s face, something that is achingly akin to InuYasha, an age in eyes that should have been more innocent… The demon lord’s face does not give anything away, “incorrect.” Sesshomaru counters as gently as possible, “the tragedy you have suffered should have taught you to be prepared for the next fight, the next misfortune, to make certain there will be no others following in the wake, but also, that loss should have given you an appreciation for what you have still here. Pain, kit, is what proves your heart is strong, for if you were weak, you wouldn’t have mourned their passing. Now that you have learned these lessons, you may start to truly move.”
At this, Shippo blinks up at the towering lord in realization, meeting those cool golden eyes head-on for the first time in his memory. For some reason (maybe, just maybe because he was important to InuYasha or maybe because he was a little kid or something), the Lord of the West was trying to make him feel better. There is something very important going on here, something the fox may not fully understand yet, but he absorbed the advice like cloth absorbing water for later rumination.
“So,” and here he clears his suddenly thick throat, “what do I need to do, Lord Sesshomaru?”
Gingerly, the demon lord replaces his old practice sword in the holder, the last place he left it, and he steps back from the memories that still haunt him. Easily, he moves again, eyes tracking the kit seriously as he comes a few feet, facing the child head-on. “Very simple, kit. You learn to walk the path of the honorable ruler,” and turns to leave the dojo. At the door, he pauses, “dinner will be soon. Go and freshen yourself. InuYasha will want to see how you are progressing.”
The kit stares wide-eyed at the lord’s retreating back. On one hand, he’s glad he hadn’t gotten his ass handed to him by the scary-powerful daiyoukai, but on another hand, he wishes Sesshomaru had taken up that practice sword. Well, the guy never did like him, right? Not even in the days of Naraku, but then again, why would he have even bothered talking to the kit if he didn’t give a shit about him either way? Who knew. Adults were fucking weird. But, as messed up as the encounter had gone, Shippo’s tail wilts as he wonders what exactly an honorable ruler should be made of. How was he supposed to learn that path if he knew nothing about it?
Maybe, just maybe, Lord Sesshomaru meant for him to ask. Well, the kit wipes arrant sweat from his brow and puts the practice sword back in its niche, still somewhat shaky from that narrow miss. Damn, even tryin ta be kinda nice, the lord is still scary as hell.
Shippo carefully slides the shoji shut behind him as he leaves the room and creeps down the hallway; Lord Sesshomaru is nowhere to be seen and his scent is casually trailing further down the hall away from the guards. Unknowing of the others on the hunt for him, he spells himself to look like one of the other guards and makes his way down the hall.
VI
Silk and steel slide over skin as the demon lord dresses in his most formal kimono and layers his armor over the crest of the Inu no Taishou. The armor is brittle, older than he, and a laughingly poor protection to his sealed form when his body is so much more powerful than the lacquered plates and bits of spiked steel. Yet, Touga wore armor all his days and in keeping with this tradition reminds Sesshomaru of better times; why else continue to wear it?
Behind him, the servant girl waits with the young boy beside her; between the two of them, his obi, more formal than his normal yellow patterned, is stretched out between them. This obi is blood red with golden flowers to match the white kimono with red flower petals patterned on the sleeve (similar to his normal wear) and also bares the crest of his father’s house—it had been taken out of storage and smells of lavender to keep bugs from the fine material. Rather than have the two dress him, the demon lord turns and the obi is laid carefully in his outstretched hands. He does not look down while he weaves it in complicated, precise knots.
“Make certain the kit, Shippo, comes to the main dining hall,” he orders the two. “I will complete my own preparations.”
Both bow low, “hai, Sesshomaru-dono,” and scamper away, closing the Western-style door behind them.
Alone with only his thoughts and away from prying eyes, the demon lord folds himself down on the ground to close his eyes. Brief moments of meditation will calm his thoughts before walking into the dining hall full of “family” vying to see InuYasha and probably attempt to make mating since he, too, is now part of the ruling family and the heir to the Western kingdom should Sesshomaru fall. With no offspring to succeed him, an alliance with InuYasha would be the fastest way for vipers to get closer and closer to the throne.
“You must become accustomed to this attention, Sesshomaru,” golden eyes so like own arch knowingly, “for you are more than you have been yet, and this den of vipers will see you for your weight in gold.”
“I have no need for companionship or a mate. There is more to do in the West than worry about bitches in heat and their whims.” Blood oozed down his superficial injuries from sparring, none of it made him flinch. He looked out across the field, outside the castle walls with the wood practice sword sitting across his thighs. A ways from him, his father stood with arms crossed, his profile partially hidden.
However, the general is making a valid point with his recently returned offspring, “nevertheless, you are recognized as my heir, to inherit the Western lands should anything happen to me, and this will make the worst in all come to the fore. Watch your step with the aristocracy, Sesshomaru. Even Katsuo can be swayed by his lady’s requests.”
Katsuo. Only in the last weeks has he met his half-brother, the result of his mother and her first mate—the mate she truly loved and lost. Too jovial for the Prince, Katsuo had been overly warm and accepting of him in a way that made Sesshomaru slightly uncomfortable. How could one be that anxious to meet a complete stranger, even if they did share a partial bloodline? Sesshomaru could put no credit in the other inu’s sincerity. “Hn. He is not of my concern, nor his weakness to give in to the wants of a female. She will be his downfall,” bitter over his mother’s betrayal, the prince scoffs at his “brother’s” simpering mate, one he’d only needed to meet once to have his fill of her.
The Taishou’s eyes danced over to his son, softening ever so slightly at the youth’s jaded outlook. “Our life spans are long and difficult, my son. Do no discredit the need for companionship in your first two hundred years of life. It is amazing how much affection can change a man’s perspective,” the Taishou’s voice was suddenly wistful and the prince’s eyes are comically wide at the change in the demon he knew as unyielding. He bit his tongue at calling his father a weakling as well and chose to stay his hand in this battle.
“For you, I want an absurd happiness,” the Taishou continued with a smirk, “to make up for your first two hundred years of your life. If a warm female or male could give that to you, then I would count you blessed indeed. However, these court females are not it for you; their wiles and lies are not what I would have hoped.” And in his sire’s golden eyes, Sesshomaru sees the sincerity of truth…
“Nor I for you, InuYasha,” breaking his meditation for a return to the here and now, Sesshomaru breathes deeply and stands, wondering when the appropriate time to talk with the hanyou about all this would occur. He slides Bakusaiga and Tensaiga by his hip with absent motions while he considers many things.
“Sire?” Yao Xin at the door, knocking gently. “The meal awaits you.”
Is it already too late to have the servants bring his meal up to his room? Ridiculous, this Sesshomaru is no coward to hide from his blooded kin. He strides to the door just to prove that small voice correct and faces his advisor with his normal expression of distant boredom.
“The hall is restless, then?”
“Hai, milord,” the advisor falls in a step behind the demon lord’s long strides, eyes darting to the ceremonial kimono he hadn’t seen the young lord wear since the ceremony to send InuYasha and Lady Izayoi away. Sesshomaru had pointedly put the clothing away after the heartbreaking good-bye for only the innermost family’s eyes. The old advisor is quite surprised to see his lord wearing it once again.
“And your children?” The demon lord asks out of the blue, “How are they faring with kotodama magic?”
Xin starts at the question, “as well as can be expected, sire. They and the other prisoners have been watches closely for any hint of insurgency. One of our healers speaks their language and goes down to visit the injured daily; thus far we have no indication of a more in-depth plot against the West.”
“Hn. Their silence means little when their army shows a pathetic attempt at subterfuge. Even if our reports are correct and the invaders have seen fewer births of Elementals, there are still thousands of humans with which to contend. This ploy will not succeed.”
“Agreed, sire. They are on the shores somewhere.”
Sesshomaru pauses slightly, “Yao Xin.”
The Elemental gives a side-glance as he too pauses, “sire?”
“This cannot be easy for you, having loyalties on both sides of the battle. As you well know of this Sesshomaru, he understands all too well of the need for family.” The demon lord turns subtly on his heel to face his advisor with the full force of his knowing eyes. “There are times when the heart rather than reason must take precedent; however, the consequences do not always make such decisions worthwhile.” The taste of these words are bitter to the inu, but he stands by them, not backing down.
Sesshomaru…Do you not see that I cannot go back now? It is much too late.
“Well understood, sire.” The Elemental bows slightly, and they resume long strides down the family wing. The two stop outside the room that is InuYasha’s and the commotion going on makes both blink, breaking the obvious tension.
“GAAAHHH! What in the seven hells are you tryin’ ta do?! Rip my goddam ear off?!”
“-Sire, please!”
“Oooowww! For SHIT’S SAKE that hurts!”
“Lord InuYasha, I am so very sorry, but please hold still!”
“Are you fucking kidding me with this?!?! Get offa me! Enough already!”
“Oh please, sire. Hold still and it won’t take but a few moments! I promise it will not hurt again.”
“Like hell!”
Sesshomaru’s normally blank expression cracks around the edges when a tell-tale twitch of his mouth belays amusement. He doesn’t bother knocking (not in his own damn palace) but opens the door abruptly, ending the shouting match with his presence. The scene is much as he expected, InuYasha half-dressed, hair flying madly about with half combed without a tangle one and half snarled en mass, his fangs bare to the root and one hand with newly polished, gleaming claws, the other hand still dull with use. The servant boy is cowering by the tea table, polishing cloth still in hand and Miniko standing, exasperated, with a comb in one hand and an obi in the other. She goes immediately pale when Sesshomaru’s eyes narrow on the scene. Hanging over the doorway to the bedroom is a red, silver, and black kimono, one that suspiciously does not have the family’s crest emblazoned on the sleeves, chest, or back. A startling moment of realization reminds the demon lord where he knew that specific kimono from, and the sight makes him wonder why it was chosen out of several others that did bare the name of the dog demon clan.
With an audible gulp, Miniko apparently comes out of her surprise and drops to the floor in a low bow, reminiscent of the kit’s earlier display.
“My lord-!”
“Goddamn it, Sesshomaru, what the hell-“
“Silence.” One clawed hand comes up to rub the bridge of his nose in mock irritation when he is really resisting all urge to snicker and piss off the hanyou even more.
Said hanyou huffs and crosses his arms over his bare chest, hakama hanging dangerously low on his hips.
“Miniko, I will assist InuYasha in his preparations. Yao, we shall be to the stairwell shortly,” with this dismissal, both bow to their lord and back out the door without cracking a smile while Hichiro stays where he is cowering, pointedly averting his gaze.
When the door closes, Sesshomaru finally sighs, and the hanyou arches a brow at him. “I wasn’t trying to be a pain in the ass or nothing, so don’t-“
“Your brother is unconcerned. Sit down so Miniko’s work will not be in vain.” Sesshomaru moves smoothly, “Hichiro, finish your lord’s claws.” Too late, he recalls InuYasha’s disdain for third-person while out of company.
The demon child stands quickly, trembling slightly and rights the overturned stool for InuYasha before kneeling, tail hanging limply on the floor.
Eyeing the devices of torture in his older brother’s hands, the hanyou’s glance is wary, “is all this crap really necessary? I mean, dammit, what do they care about some half-couth mongrel anyhow? I sure as hell ain’t putting on shoes, so why’s everyone on about my hair?”
The blink almost transformed Sesshomaru’s expression before he could school it into neutral lines, “shoes are not necessary, InuYasha; however, as dog demons, grooming is important. Hn, I cannot imagine you a coward for something as simple as a hair brushing.”
Ah, the younger inu’s spine snaps straight with the subtle barb, “are you outta yer fuckin’ gourd, man? Who would be scared of a comb? Seriously?” He’s already moving to plop his ass down on the stool to let the demon lord do his worst.
“Before I heard your caterwauling from down the hall, I would have thought no one.” Sesshomaru replies easily as he takes up faint smelling oil to run through the tangles before easing the comb through.
“Keh, I wasn’t hollering that loud,” the hanyou grumbles while Hichiro works at polishing his other hand; the kid pauses noticeably at this but hurries back to polishing his lord’s claws. “She just got ahold of bad knot right by my damn ear. Hurt like she was pulling hair by my left nut.” He shudders in remembrance.
“Painful indeed,” in less time than he would believe, the oil did its job and made the comb flow through silky white hair, almost as straight as his own. “Is this the kimono you have chosen for the night?” An abrupt change of subject, but Sesshomaru is determined to attempt integrating his sibling into castle life in as many ways as possible. Subversively trying to make the younger inu feel comfortable in their father’s home, to keep him from leaving without pushing any of the hanyou’s many buttons, the demon lord’s ultimate goal is to welcome InuYasha home…for good. Unlike he at that age, InuYasha has no desire for more power; no, the youth wants things that not even he realizes he wants: a home, comfort, belonging, family…
What do you have to protect…?
“Yeah. It’s pretty close to the Fire Rat, so I pulled it out of that old wardrobe.” The hanyou pauses, as if hearing something in Sesshomaru’s tone. “It’s fine, right? That one smells like you, not the old man. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
How ironic. “There is no problem should you choose to wear this clothing…however,” Sesshomaru’s hands still for a perceptible moment, “that clothing is from my exile. I should not wish to burden you with such a thing.”
Ears automatically perk, a slight twitch indicates the hanyou understands too well.
“Oi. Hichiro, beat it, squirt. Ya did a good job anyhow.”
The little demon looks up with wide, scared eyes, “thank-you, sire! But, Miniko-san, InuYasha-sama… M-Miniko-san didn’t mean to-“
The hanyou waves a shiny hand at the kid as he stands, ears barely grazing Sesshomaru’s cheek in the process. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. Wadda think, I’m an idiot? Now scram. Find something to eat. Tell Miniko to get some chow too. I ain’t gonna need nothing anyhow. ‘Sides, she brought some food, so that means she’s on the good-to-go list. Ya get me?”
The youth brightens instantaneously now that he knows Miniko will not get in trouble, “Hai, my lord. Arigatou!” Bowing with excitement, the young demon didn’t pick up on the pall in the room as he closes the door behind him, visions of Bean Buns and noodles are instead dancing in his mind.
Alone with his brother, his upper body bare, InuYasha feels that strange fluttering in the pit of his stomach when their eyes meet this time. The air between them suddenly becomes heavy, weighty with things unsaid, things undone…
Trying to backpedal, the hanyou takes an almost imperceptible step back and looks to the hanging kimono, words, explanations, anything tumbling out with an obvious desperation. “I can wear something else. No big deal. My fire rat has already cleaned itself and is hanging up-”
“There are many kimonos in the wardrobe,” Sesshomaru interrupts smoothly, advancing for the step InuYasha retreated, “this one, however, is unbefitting your status. Perhaps you may use it during other times, but tonight is your introduction to our family, your kin. The crest of this family should adorn your clothing.” Sesshomaru’s hand twitches slightly, the only indication of his inner struggle to stop himself from reaching out, an act against his very nature. “Come.”
Behind Sesshomaru’s back, InuYasha lets out a quiet breath and crosses his arms over himself instinctively before following. His hair tickles the bare skin of his lower back above the waist of his hakama while he walks and isn’t helping his hypersensitive nerves ignore things his body recently realized it could want. His own claws prick at his biceps to maintain control while Sesshomaru moves through the bedroom easily and opens the tall wardrobe, releasing the smell of lavender and camphor with hints of shiro inus. The folds of silk, satin, cotton, and wool all have a story in themselves, more clothes than he’s ever owned in his life, hell, more than he’s ever seen anyone own.
Sesshomaru’s hand settles on a hanging kimono, one that is also mainly red; however, this kimono bares the family crest on shoulder while the back has an exquisitely stitched inu howling at the moon. Subtle piping and stitching in silver and blue would make the hanyou stand out without the gaudiness of some female kimonos. Yes, this would do.
Overcoming InuYasha’s suddenly shyness, the demon lord presents the kimono, under layer, and obi, waiting while the hanyou finishes dressing and adds Tetsuaiga at his hip. As his brother straightens in the new clothing, hair moving like a curtain of silver, the demon lord closes his eyes for only a moment—just enough time to take this moment in. For two hundred years, I have waited for this, yearned for it. InuYasha…
A whoosh, a breath, and the hanyou is suddenly, alarmingly, close, looking up into Sesshomaru’s face with concern, “Oi. Sesshomaru. What’s wrong?” and then a softer, “what is it?” Innocent eyes still; the hanyou doesn’t realize the unfamiliar emotions swirling in the debts of the lord’s formerly cold heart.
“Brother…” very easily, slowly, as if approaching a spooked animal, the lord wraps his arms around InuYasha, “how long I have waited for you to come home.”
The shuddering breath from them both seems to shake the uncomfortable feel of new clothes, new surroundings, new relationship, the things making InuYasha edgy. Regardless of all that crazy shit being over, the fight, the Heat, the god’s dammed Trial bullshit…even after it was all said n done, this proves Sesshomaru’s intentions. The embrace is almost desperate, and the hanyou can appreciate his brother’s need of closeness, of family. All of it makes some tight knot in the center of his chest ease.
“Yeah…” the hanyou finally pulls away to look up into the mirror of his own gaze and read what’s doing. He smirks, “not like we’re being girly over here or anything, but you shoulda just braided my damn hair if you were gonna be all touchy feely, y know.”
“Hn. Why point out your overly effeminate features more when you are so concerned with appearances, little brother.”
“Nani?! Effeminate? Oh, that’s rich. Who’s got the pink markings on his eyelids there, asshole?”
“And who has the womanly puppy dog ears?”
“My ears aren’t girly!”
“I believe ‘cute’ is a rather womanish sentiment.”
“You-are-a-dick.”
“Incorrect, most members do not have my height or girth. You should remember that.” Smoothly, Sesshomaru starts for the door while the hanyou gapes at him.
Finally, InuYasha throws his hands up, “the second I think I got you figured out, and there you go making an obscene comment. Geeze, who knew you actually had a sense of humor.”
“In time, you may learn that I am a great deal more than what I seem,” standing by the door, Sesshomaru gives him an arched brow.
Moving to the door, InuYasha crosses his arms in the unfamiliar sleeves, relieved that horrible awkwardness is over.
“So, you gonna prepare me for what I’m walking into tonight or what? I mean, food is food, but is there anyone in particular I should be looking out for? Anything I shouldn’t do?”
Shortening his strides to maintain their side-by-side approach, Sesshomaru’s eyes slide sideways, “do as you please; however, refrain from using the Wind Scar or Kongōsōha inside the palace. Most enjoy the walls standing in one piece.”
“Keh! Like I’m that dumb…” at Sesshomaru’s look, he really has to think about it. Well, maybe if someone pisses him off enough…. “All right,” with both hands up in an ‘I come in peace’ gesture, he concedes, “no attacks while I’m inside. Well, what about all these inus around? I mean, do you have any other brothers than me an Katsuo?”
“No, this Sesshomaru has no other siblings but for you and, unfortunately, Katsuo.”
“Not a fan, huh? He seems like he’s all right though.”
“He is incessantly cheerful.”
“Oh. Well, ain’t it a change from the two of us? We’re both a little fucking sadistic, you know. It’s different to have a nice guy in the family.”
“His pups are also tiresome.”
“Wadda ya expect? They’re pups. They’re too stupid yet to know better.”
Sigh, “other than he, Father’s younger brother and sister are still among the living and have had quite large litters so you will have the pleasure to meet many cousins and older relations through bloodlines. It will prove to be an eventful evening.”
The old man had siblings?! Why the fuck didn’t any of the stories have that detail? As they see Yao Xin and Kenshin at the head of the stairs, the hanyou give a half-shrug, “’Long as there’s some good food, it can’t be all bad, right?”
“Do not say this until the night is over. You are only inviting the inevitable. Simply refrain from eviscerating any of the cousins. The servants tell me it is difficult to get blood out of the carpets.”
“Lookit you, gotta ruin all my fun.” InuYasha pauses for a moment and has to say something about that earlier embrace, “hey…”
Sesshomaru’s head turns with a raised brow.
“Meetin’ all these people is cool an’ all, but you realize I don’t give a shit about any of ‘em. You are the only family I’ve ever wanted to impress, and that ain’t going to change. You know that, right?”
The omission is not one the demon lord expects during their back and forth comradery, but instead of ruining the sentiment, Sesshomaru meets InuYasha’s expression with a rare smile.
“My lords,” and both advisors bow low.
InuYasha, under the false bravado and witty one-liners, steels himself for the next few hours of new faces and scents, of being the center of attention instead of hiding in the back, of meeting people that may not want to give him a good stoning for once. Maybe it won’t be so bad, maybe it’ll be shit. Maybe, regardless of his scent being all his now, some of ‘em still might have a problem with him being a half-breed. Well, Sesshomaru didn’t say a thing about not taking anyone outside and beating the ever-loving crap out of ‘em in the snow.
That thought makes him feel better, and at Sesshomaru’s side, he descends the staircase without trepidation.
VII
The sea and the wind are as unforgiving as any other element of nature; even the great Khan can do nothing to control the harsh waves and gales blasting against the meager cover of a few bare trees in the night. The people of the cold lands are accustomed to harsh terrain and terrible weather; they are accustomed to training their bodies to brave the worst conditions; however, every living being has its’ limits. Many of the others sustained injuries from the previous battle or grow ill in the frigid, snowy cold and lack of movement. The majority are sparsely covered and buried under the frozen ground to keep the West soldiers from sniffing them out.
The original plan was definitely not to wait for an all-out attack on the Western Palace, but to take advantage of the army’s fatigue with fresh soldiers waiting and prisoners inside to take out the main powerhouse of Nippon’s four kingdoms. Once the West fell, the Khan would finally have a food hold in the land itself, a place to bring more of their people to start an expansion across the island. They could finally conquer the great land their ancestors dreamed of owning.
Of course, stealth is crucial to the mission; however, the Khan and his generals did not account for many other, powerful demons to be within the Western Palace so soon. His plan, brilliant in its simplicity, does not account for the gathering of hundreds along with those already in the palace. Thus the waiting would commence until their course is righted once again and victory would be within their grasp. On the positive note, however, it would give ample time for the many others in palace to move. The plan would be even more ingenious than originally intended. Like a disease, eating the body from the inside out, so would the many attack and claim….
For the many insults, injuries, for the honor of their ancestors, they would be vindicated.
VIII
Of course, the large hall is boisterous with sound from the large collection of inus, servants, children, and a hodgepodge of family friends gathered at the biggest table the hanyou has ever seen.
Instant. Fucking. Head-ache. Of course, he tunes out a lot of the smells and sounds coming from the main body of the palace, easier to do when he was in his room (keh, his room. Whatever.) However, he is new to such powers and the prolonged overload to his senses weighs heavily. Not just from his ultra-keen sense of smell and taste, but now his sense of power, of youkai, of spirit and soul, are like a separate muscle in his body—he feels something within him flex, just like the muscles in his thighs when he runs or his biceps when he swings. All these new sensations connect to an awakening nerve in the center of his being, shaking him. There is too much, too many others downstairs to process at one time, picking out the scent of Kouga, Shippo, and even Totsai’s goddamed smelly-ass cow. The young inu-hanyou needs to breathe deep and shove it all away as hard as he can. He cannot lose himself, not when there is no more Kagome to bring him back from the red haze of rage. He’s been a leashless killer.
Terribly embarrassing, even within the constraints of his own mind, he feels a crazy kind of panic at the unknown—a feelings that claws up from the pit of his belly to try and lodge itself in the center of his chest. Breath is wrung from his lungs, the viscera trying to seize on him. Calm the fuck down, shithead. Sesshomaru’s here and a ton of other, powerful fuckers that could probably take you down without dying. An-an’ if they just don’t fucking like you, well, the hell with ‘em all! You just get your Fire Rat and give ‘em a nice “fuck off” before you leave. Yeah, that’s a pretty good plan.
Well, there, that made him feel better now, and with a sweeping gaze over the crowd, he could breathe a little deeper, ignoring Sesshomaru’s glance in his direction. So many of them here. I never knew there were more than just me and him…well, then his bitch of a mother. But, there must be over a hundred! Where the hell have they all been…?
“Holy hell,” he mutters under his breath, one ear perks while the other flops over unconcerned, “I’m followin’ yer lead. Don’t leave me alone, got it?”
Sesshomaru’s eyes slide sideways once again, waiting for another subtle illumination from InuYasha’s claws, one that was faint but obvious to anyone standing close. “You will sit at your brother’s right hand.”
It is then that the musicians and criers call out the Princes of the West, giving them the signal to cross the threshold and silencing the noisy brood. Heads turn, fans flutter like the wings of startled butterflies in flight, expensive and elaborate kimonos glint with previous jewels embedded, ornate headpieces threaten to take out an eye of anyone in the vicinity. There are more well-dressed females and males in this room than the hanyou has ever seen in his long life, even in his mother’s own court or any of the prestigious kingdoms he has been in his travels (not that his travels were really to visit any hoity toity rich fucks or anything). This gathering was, well, pretty impressive.
Of course, the congregation moves to bow respectfully (some noticing, that the younger prince is oddly enough without foot covering…?) until the two move to the head of the table, a table with piles and piles of mouth-watering dishes. The more he sees, the wider his eyes get as InuYasha takes the empty spot beside Katsuo, not taking time to marvel at the fancy furniture with legs and a seat rather than traditional floor tables. He stays standing as the assembled guests and family rise from their respectful bows, and the majority of eyes fall on him rather than Sesshomaru. The automatic gestures take root and his hands hide in the long sleeves of this unfamiliar kimono while his expression fights for neutrality; the patches with the family crest weighs heavier at his shoulders, chest, and back with implied meaning.
“Abomination!”
“Half-breed bastard.”
“Should have been drowned at birth.”
“Whore of a mother.”
Addressing the crowd, Sesshomaru’s voice reverberates in the quiet, “as custom, begun by our sire, the Inu no Taishou, demands, those here gather celebrate for reasons twofold: for the victory against the invading Mongolians, a scourge that has come to our shores before in an effort to take what was rightfully won by this Sesshomaru’s sire and himself.” The reference to the last battle, one the current lord took great pleasure in partaking, causes a spark throughout the crowd. The soldiers at the door straighten at the mention of the still pending conflict, “However, more importantly, this feast is celebration for the return of this Sesshomaru’s little brother, wielder of Tetsuaiga, victor over Naraku, Ryukotsusei, and countless other evils, one who has proven his honor time and time again. He is here, returned to the family on his path to be an Honorable Ruler like his sire. This Sesshomaru proudly welcomes the champion of the West, youngest son of the Inu no Taishou, Lord InuYasha.” A demon of few words, the lord’s graceful hand gestures to the puppy-eared hanyou.
Again, that moment of panic threatens to overtake him when the applause and calls are deafening; more inus than he’s ever seen in his life are clapping like they are banishing spirits, with strength and sincerity. So many faces are openly warm, openly welcoming… the hanyou sucks in a breath (remembering some of the old lessons from Mother) and gingerly bows to the table in a rusty move, for it is against his nature to bow to anyone (but damn it if the tips of his hair aren’t close to getting in the food). He doesn’t forget the whole, “walking the path of the Honorable Ruler” bit since his brother does seem to be pretty fucking obsessed with all that shit, but his only intention is getting through the next few hours without totally killing someone or spilling food all over himself. So far, so good.
However, he glances furtively around as he straightens, and does see the few with disapproval in their eyes and mannerisms, ones to watch out for. InuYasha has no misconception that everyone in the royal family would approve of him or welcome him with open arms. Naw, real life just ain’t that way and not even Sesshomaru is scary enough for ingrained prejudice. Realistically, it’s never good to stand with a manipulative bastard at your back, next thing you know, you’ve got a sword shoved in your guts and cussing your own dumbass choice. So, his need to know and recognize the ones that might be the grinning enemy. By sight, he details four inus and several servants giving him the scratch. Shit, just by the look of the crowd, he’s the only half-breed here anyhow.
“All present shall feast to celebrate his return,” Sesshomaru continues as soon as the deafening roar calms and takes his place, signaling the rest to do so also. InuYasha is relieved Yao and Kenshin are across the table from him as trusted advisors with Kouga and Shippo right beside Kenshin while Katsuo and his brood sits to the left rather than someone he doesn’t know. To make it even better, Baba is waaaay down the table, halfway or abouts, and not looking very happy to be so far from the head.
As servants step up to gather a plate for their guests, Katsuo fixes his attention to the stiff hanyou, “ease down, little brother. A feast is to be enjoyed! Besides, didn’t anyone tell you that your face might stick that way if you keep frowning?”
Slightly, an ear cocks in his direction as InuYasha can’t help but smile a bit, “keh. Maybe it’s my favorite expression.”
“I sincerely hope not. God’s forbid you would end up like Sesshomaru! A smile would probably crack open his face.”
A ghost of a memory flashes in the hanyou’s mind, that half smile, so rare, and only for him… InuYasha blinks abruptly, almost trying to physically backpedal. “Yeah, well…considering Baba over there, I can see he gets it honest.”
A burst of laughter rolls out of the older inu as a servant bows to him and lays a plate laden with raw meats, fruits, vegetables, and bread in front of him without asking his preferences. “I suppose you have a valid point, InuYasha. A smile from the likes of my mother would probably shake apart the ground. Let’s hope it never comes to that.”
“Just the ground? A smile from baba might make shake up the heavens,” he counters with a smirk.
“Sire, what may I serve you?” InuYasha starts, looking at the animalistic demoness by his other side, her eyes demurely on the floor.
“Oh, uh, well…” he glances over at the plates in front of him, a little weirded out she was just standing there without saying anything for a while, “I haven’t really looked much, but howz about some of that dumpling soup there? Oh, hey that rice looks okay too. I dunno, maybe some noodles and some of that chicken stuff too, that smells pretty good, and…is that some kind of bread? Man, I love bread.”
While he speaks, the demoness hurries to comply with his wishes, piling rice and noodles, then chicken and vegetable concoction, and several pieces of different breads before setting the plate gently before him. She hesitates while his mouth literally waters,
“My lord, this is not very much…are you certain there is nothing else you would like to sample? I would happily get another plate with a few different delicacies for your approval…?”
Slowly, the hanyou’s gaze moves from the food to the demoness, the demoness who is offering him more. More food, a full blooded demoness asking him. This hit pretty high on his “Holy Shit” level of good things happening.
“Well, I…” Under Katsuo’s watch, he hesitates, “I-I’ll think about it.”
“Oh my! Of course, sire. Forgive me for rushing you,” she belts out, looking terrified at offending the new Prince of the West and bows low.
“Naw, I just want to give this a try, then my stomach’ll figure out what to try next, okay?” he gives her a half-smile that is unknowingly innocent and charming at the same time.
The demoness beams at him, “absolutely, InuYasha-sama! I will serve you whatever you desire and when! If you would like to talk to our cooks about a dish or have them make something specific, I am certain any one of them would be honored to create a concoction to your taste, sire.”
“Keh, that ain’t necessary. Don’t need to bother ‘em for me. Long as nothing is too spicy, I’m good.” He hunkers down, picking up the set of fancy chopsticks next to his bowl, eyes darting around discreetly to see everyone else picking at their plates as they banter back and forth, the room becoming dull with conversation and the sound of eating. None of that, however, gains Lord Katsuo’s attention; he only has eyes for the new addition to the Western Palace and openly watches the hanyou with soft eyes.
The hanyou feels his cheeks warm in embarrassment and turns his attention to his plate; when in doubt, stuff your mouth with food, “so, Sesshomaru said you rule the inu lands. Guess yer pretty much older than the two of us.” He bites into the rice with gusto, gruff nature coming to the fore.
“I do rule the inu lands, little brother,” the elder laughs, “and, yes, I am somewhat older than the two of you.”
“It’s funny. I been all over this island in my life, but I ain’t come across another Shiro inu aside from Sesshomaru and sure as hell not a whole colony of ‘em. I mean, damn. I didn’t know there were this many living.” His eyes skim over the congregation again, falling briefly on Shippo and Kouga.
Katsuo’s voice draws his attention back, “Very few know there are this many in existence, InuYasha-chan. The Elders, yes, but other than for their record-keeping, the majority of shiro inus remain in our ancestral home, hidden by magic. They do not wish to journey out in to the human realm and join other demons or humans. Your father’s side of the clan and my mother are among the few exceptions.”
“The old man’s clan? So the shiro inu were divided?”
With a sweep of his arm, Katsuo gestures to the assembled, “a majority of this table is the descendants of your great-great grandsire’s clan, together and living among other demons. However, once your father, Touga, finished the work of your grandsire and united the West under one rule, many of the old clan decided to return to their ancestral home. It was too…difficult…a change for many. We are a solitary people, finding comfort in our own kind.”
The hanyou stills, one ear quirks in question, “I don’t get what yer trying ta say.”
Katsuo’s eyes show a hint of shadow, his normally jovial expression fades around the edges, “at one time in our history, the Shiro Inus were a separatist clan, InuYasha-chan, and a convergence with other demon clans was…frightening or intimidating. As demons, our people have great strength and skill in magick, but we are very beautiful while many other types of demons are hideous, and these attributes make our worth ten-fold. This lead to some of our people kidnapped and forced into marriages with other ruling clans, or our children abducted to be sold into slavery. Your father had his hands equally full of warring and rescuing.”
“Really? I never hear those stories about him, or about any of the others, I mean. Allz I know about the old man are stories of the bastards he’s taken down or the battles he needed to win in order to bring the West together. Or, shit, a few things Totsai told me about his swords.” Mulling over these things, the hanyou finishes off his soup while Katsuo partakes in his bloody feast, eating neatly, thoughtfully.
“There are many tomes of his stories in the library here,” Sesshomaru interjects smoothly, “something to take up your time, little brother.”
As if I could read well enough, the hanyou glances over but wisely remains silent on the reading topic. “Keh, well, we’ll see.” His eyes dart over to Katsuo, “so, when the old man decided to unite the West, the clan just broke up or what? He was the main guy until other demons and humans started into the mix?”
“Well, while he was busy finishing this palace and fighting, many of our brethren fought with him, others determined the shiro inu should be left to the current ruler’s own devices— thus a powerful spell that could hide the people and lands from all those without a link to the bloodline.”
“But…the old man wasn’t really into magick was he? I thought he was more, you know, up front and personal when he wanted to kick someone’s ass.” Confusion furrows InuYasha’s brows.
“Do not mistake who the current “ruler” of the inu clan was, little brother. Father was but the general. My mother, however, was the true blooded ruler and a powerful sorceress.” Sesshomaru slips a piece of rare, raw meat onto the younger’s plate.
Curious, the hanyou takes it in his chopsticks, nibbling at it while a slight flashback of his fight with Ba-ba in that tower reminds him of the good ole’ butt-kicking. Well, at least some of it made sense now. “So that’s how come Katsuo is the go-to guy now, right?”
The elder lord pats his daughter’s head before turning back to the hanyou, “it has been almost a four hundred years since Mother has given up her title to join the Council of Elders—of which, I assume you are familiar.”
InuYasha’s chewing pauses, his poor belly growling. His eyes slide to Katsuo.
A knowing look passes through Katsuo’s golden eyes, “I see that you are, little brother.”
“Yeah, well…. You probably already know why I ain’t been here before anyhow—first sons and hanyous, right? Seems like you’d be the first one that would ask.” Was there more of what Sesshomaru has? Man, he wasn’t normally into the raw stuff, but damn if it didn’t taste good. True to form, he doesn’t dwell on the whys or what-for’s.
“Indeed. I have also had the honor of such a trial before I stepped up to take the ruling power over our people.” Katsuo chews thoughtfully on his own feast of raw meats, “it is…difficult…to adjust to this life after surviving on wits and strength alone,” and those golden eyes mirror an inner pain the hanyou can totally get. “…Should you ever need to vent, InuYasha, I am always here for you—now that I am finally able to be.”
The offer is so heartfelt, InuYasha is taken back a bit; the need to do so, to let all the events of the last few weeks rush out of him like a torrent, strikes him out of the blue—a strange want considering the circumstances. The hanyou has trusted a handful of people at best and the idea of just telling this older demon all his woes is just fucking odd.
“I appreciate the offer. Maybe sometime, I’ll take you up on it.” Non-committal but polite; Mother would be proud.
“Father!” One of his pups called to his sire, and Katsuo’s attention is taken up by his own.
Going back to his food brings his gaze to Shippo, his little kit trying to grow up and watching the table further down with those jade eyes. Something about his looks makes the hanyou wish he’d insisted the kid stay with him when Kagome went home for the last time. It had amazed him, seeing how much the little shit had grown in what was a short time for a demon like he was. And that…. That had been when he was batshit in the demon blood.
Holy shit. I remember what happened…
Blinking to himself, InuYasha realizes in that moment, he’d been pissed off about the sonsofwhores that tied his little guy up and beat the crap out of him for no reason, that, with the blood still pulsing in his half-human veins, he had to work around the huge fangs in his mouth to speak. He’d had to calm down because Shippo still reeked of fear, even when the ropes were gone.
Shaking off his thoughts, looking at the fox in the here and now with an expression slightly akin to Sesshomaru’s empty face, something in the hanyou’s chest lurches. “Oi. Shippo.”
Seemingly lost in his thoughts, the kit starts and looks up.
Maybe he should just stay here for a while, something about the way he looks ain’t right. It’s not just age on him….but they hanyou hardly realizes the same thing happened to him as a child—the air of experience taking over childhood innocence. Without Kagome to keep him young, without Naraku to give him purpose, without the pack to keep him safe, Shippo had fallen to the wayside. It had been a good call at the time, but the repercussions are right there in the kit’s face.
“Glad you made it back. I was worried about you, you know.” Shippo crosses his arms in a familiar fashion.
“Keh. Don’t be stupid, I’ve been taking care of myself longer than you’ve been alive, shrimp. Glad to see yer arm is healed up, though. How you feeling? They been taking good care of you here?”
“Healed up without a problem,” the kit shrugs. “ an’ I’m bored as hell, but it’s an all right place I guess.” Jade eyes dance to Lord Sesshomaru for only a second, but enough for InuYasha to catch, his right ear twitches.
“Huh,” with a half-assed shrug, the hanyou gestures to Kouga beside the kit, “blame that smelly pelt, kiddo. He gotcha here too late for all the good stuff. Y’ missed a helluva good battle-” Shippo’s face falls a bit at this “-but there’ll be another day. A bunch of other days. This ain’t gonna be the last one, I’m sure. Next time, kick it in gear, you know?”
“Oi mutt-face! We were hoofing it as fast as we could! Seriously, man, I’m not as fast as I used to be when I had jewel-“
Wham.
The raucous around them goes abruptly silent; the cracking of the table fades but various pieces of food thrown from their places settle around the gathering and the floor. The coldly calm demon lord turns his gaze to the Prince of the North, his fist lying beside his plate and the sting of youkai makes the young ones shrink away.
“It seems your memory is faulty, Prince Kouga,” with deceptive calm, Sesshomaru’s expressionless face gives nothing away. “This Sesshomaru has already warned you to watch your manners. Blatant disrespect will not be tolerated.”
The air drops drastically, and Emiko huddles closer to her father, golden eyes narrowing with an adult’s understanding to the situation. Her father, however, straightens, giving the Prince of the North a cold stare; be he of good humor, he is still Lord Katuso of the Shiro Inu, and the dishonor to InuYasha is also a personal affront to him. Matters of honor were not to be taken lightly.
The wolf pales slightly, this display put on before a huge group of the aristocracy is no laughing matter, and one wrong move could force the Demon Lord’s hand at eviscerating Kouga just to maintain face (not to mention he should have known better than to get too comfortable around a bunch of stuffy inus).
“Brother.” The word tastes strange, but the hanyou’s determination to keep everything on an even keel takes over his immediate reaction to jump at the demon lord over Kouga again. The last time was enough of a pisser.
As expected, Sesshomaru’s gaze slides to the side while his body remains facing the wolf. Muscles tense, he is ready to spring at a breath.
“I don’t need to tell you that Kouga is a personal friend and his humor is…well, he’s an asshole. Pure and simple.” Keeping calm doesn’t mean InuYasha isn’t sweating on the inside with the rest of these uppity inus watching, waiting. “That doesn’t mean I don’t respect him for standing with me against some evil fuckers—more than once he had my back.” The hanyou eases his cup up to take a drink like he didn’t have a care in the world. “I’m sure it won’t cost you anything to let him be who he is. He comes to your table like any other warrior.”
The young wolf is taken aback, blinking at the hanyou with an uncomprehending air. Sure, they gave each other a buncha shit, and sure, he always stood with InuYasha against others that came at them (mostly in the attempt to gain Kagome’s affections, but later because he saw, just as the hanyou did, the difference between might and right), but he never expected anything to come of it. Sure as shit didn’t think it would make itself known in the here and now once the trial was over, Prince Kouga might just be on the right path of his own sire, of making allies where it counts.
With all this culminating, their past and possible present, Kouga straighten, looking at the hanyou in a new light.
“Your brother, Lord Sesshomaru,” the wolf interjects before the demon lord can rebut, “is one of the most honorable warriors I’ve ever met. In my life, that’s sayin’ something since I think my father’s wolves are the hardest, most seasoned fighters in the North…. Lord InuYasha, though… I’ve seen him bleed for the weak, sire, and that by Kami, is a show of his true strength.”
The wolf prince turns to the hanyou and gives a small bow from his seat, “InuYasha, I haven’t really said it before, but I’m honored to know you. Always have been. I coulda been like some other snotty royalty and cared only about myself, but fighting with you against Naraku, well, that changed me. For the better, I mean.” Huffily, the wolf turns his nose up and crosses his arms, very uncomfortable saying these personal things as males are supposed to be silent strength. “Not that I don’t still think yer a pain in the ass and too fast to jump into battle. You are, that’s just how it is, flea bag.”
Gently, the aura of anger from Katsuo eases down as the hanyou bares his teeth to the root in a nasty smile.
“Keh. I ain’t taking offense, ya smelly pelt. Just ‘cause you don’t have the balls to jump up don’t mean I have to cower.”
Someone gasps further down the table and covers a child’s ears.
The demon lord blinks, almost delicately, and fully turns to his elder brother with an expressionless mask, one hand gracefully sweeping to encompass his brother and the wolf in one gesture.
“Do you now see what this Sesshomaru is subjected to, brother?”
Abruptly, the elder lord also blinks before busting out laughing and this sound immediately makes Emiko relax against her father’s side. She beams at the hanyou around her father, and the air begins to ease.
****************
Another long blink. The past year has been traumatic; my husband and I were in a terrible car wreck in my seven month of pregnancy and since then, life has just been hectic, so no writing. What really spurned me back this time was not a visit from our favorite hanyou, but was actually an string of emails letting me know that several people had favorite this story, even though it is somewhat buried in the machinations of other talented authors. Once I saw these emails, I sat down one night to read the primary five pages of this chapter and even went back to an email from my beta in which we were brainstorming some avenues. Something about it got me back to the reviews and to re-read all the support so many of you have found worthy to put on this story. I had forgotten how dynamic all your responses have been and I humbly apologize that my mind has been gone. Here is a little something for your trouble.
- 16
- 17
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The Great Trial